


Lurid Blood & Secrets

by morrezela



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Grief/Mourning, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Major Illness, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 20:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17494721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: Prompto deals with the fact that Ignis is dying from an incurable disease. And he mourns that he can't do anything about it.





	Lurid Blood & Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for Promnis Week 2018. (I fail sauced at getting most of my fills done. But hey, I got this one done... late.)

Promto really didn’t think this was the way his day was going to go. Sure, it was a bit drizzly and gray outside, but he didn’t mind rain. Rain was just an opportunity to take different types of pictures. He’d been in a good mood not five minutes ago. Now, he just wanted to cry. 

Ignis had lured him over to Noct’s apartment with promises of free lunch and dinner. When Prompto had arrived, Gladio was there too. Which was cool because it meant the whole gang was there.

Turned out it wasn’t so cool. 

“I’m dying,” Ignis announced once he’d cleaned up after their lunch. Because apparently dishes needed to be done before sharing awful news. 

“What?” Noctis asked. He sounded shocked maybe a little in denial. 

Prompto felt the same, plus the crying part. Sure, Ignis had been a little under the weather lately. He’d had a weird cough thing going on. But he was one of the Crownsguard. He was more than physically fit. His only vice was drinking too much coffee. He couldn’t be dying. 

“That’s a shitty joke, Iggy,” Gladio rumbled, giving voice to the chaotic thoughts in Prompto’s mind. 

“No joke, I’m afraid,” Ignis said. “It’s Hanahaki’s Disease. Runs in the family, you know.” He blushed and looked away as he spoke. Like he had something to be embarrassed about. 

“Maybe we can…”

“No!” Ignis cut Noctis off before he could even finish his sentence. “There are laws about such things for a reason. I’ll not have you breaking them. I’ll not have any of you doing anything foolish. This is a predicament I got myself into. I’ll not have anyone else suffer for it.”

He spoke like he’d had a choice in the matter. Like anyone had a choice about who they fell in love with. Like he’d had a choice in inheriting the genes that predisposed him to getting one of the world’s worst disorders. 

For as long as the disease had a name, people had been trying to cure it. Some people said that developing hatred would work. Some said that wooing another might somehow cause unrequited love to become mutual. Others had tried more extreme measures. Stalking, kidnapping, brainwashing – all to try to force another person to return the affection that was killing them. Like being a monster would somehow make another person fall in love. 

There were laws about the disease for a reason. All of them knew it. 

“How much time do you have left?” Prompto asked. 

Ignis shrugged. “The doctors aren’t sure. It all depends on the growth of the plant and exposure to the other person. There are surgeries that might prolong my life, but I’ve elected not to use them. Removing the plant will only cause it to return and grow more aggressively. I don’t want to extend my life by a month or two with a cycle of endless surgeries.”

“So you might still come in contact with them?” Noctis asked. 

“I might. I might not. You know I won’t tell you more. I know you want to do something, Noctis. That you all want to do something about this. And it warms my heart that you care. But I cannot and will not allow you to ruin another person’s life in the vain hope that they would save mine.”

“Because you love them,” Gladio filled in. 

“Because I’m a decent human being and so are all of you,” Ignis rebutted. “You are the dearest friends anyone could ever have the privilege of knowing. I don’t want my illness to tarnish that.”

Prompto casually brushed away the tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. “It’s just… we didn’t know you even had a crush on anyone or anything.”

Ignis gave him a faint smile. “That was rather the point. I still have my dignity. I know that the person in question does not and never will return my affections. I’ve known this since long before I had so much as the urge to cough. There was no point in daydreaming about happily ever after nor in crying about not getting what I wanted.”

“You still could’ve told us,” Gladio pointed out. “We could’ve gotten you drunk and laid or something.”

“And what a grand pity party it would’ve been,” Ignis observed. “I appreciate the thought, but it wouldn’t have solved anything just as it wouldn’t solve anything now.”

“So what’re we supposed to do?” Noctis asked. “Just watch you die?”

“No. You will continue on as you have been. All of you. I’ve selected a replacement of sorts for my official duties. I haven’t spoken to him about it yet, but I am certain he’ll accept the position. I’ll train him so long as I can. I know it will be difficult, but I ask that you not take any grief you feel out on him. It’s not his fault I need to be replaced,” Ignis explained. 

“So you just expect us to carry on?” Gladio asked with a harsh breath. “Here’s a new Ignis! New and improved!”

“Gladio, you of all people know that I’ve duties that cannot simply be ignored in favor of grieving or sentiment. I’m not suggesting that you need to be friends with my replacement. In fact, I’d be quite insulted if he simply slotted himself into your lives. But it is necessary that somebody be able to perform my duties when I am gone. You’d not leave Noctis without a shield, would you?” Ignis pointed out. 

“Fine. But that don’t mean any of us have to like him. Or this whole situation,” Gladio grumbled. Noctis made a noise of agreement. 

“I know,” Ignis said. “I’m not asking you to like anything about this. But I do suspect you won’t find my replacement to be as odious as you’re assuming.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prompto found Iggy’s replacement to be super odious. Ludorum Tolerabiliora was a quiet mouse of a guy. He was shorter than Iggy, but taller than Prompto. Which was annoying just on principle. Why did everyone have to be taller than him? 

But more importantly, he was studious and smart. He never had troubles remembering what Iggy told him. He paid attention to Noct’s every whim even when Ignis told him not to. He remembered all kinds of dumb rules and protocols and had way more college degrees than anyone should. 

Prompto was suspicious of him, so he hung around more because that was what friends were supposed to do. Friends watched your back when sneaky people were planning to do back things. 

Also, Prompto was fifty-percent sure Ludorum was Iggy’s secret love. It was sad. Prompto always assumed Iggy would have good taste. He’d at least find somebody that looked like a supermodel or something. Iggy could totally land a supermodel. They could have long legged babies together with super pretty eyes and really good cheekbones. Tough those poor kids would need their mother’s skin because Ignis had acne scarring from what Noctis said was a super rough adolescence. 

Anyway, Ludo was fucking beneath Ignis’s notice, and Prompto hated him for it. Just plain hated him. That dude was so not worth losing Iggy over. 

Of course, Prompto had to be nice to the guy. Because Ignis asked, and Ignis was dying. So Prompto couldn’t just ignore Iggy’s request. That’d be bad. But he could totally hate Ludo from afar. Nobody had to know. 

“You really hate him, don’t you?” Noctis asked. 

Noct knowing didn’t count. Noct was his best friend. 

“He does,” Gladio agreed. 

“Fuck both of you,” Prompto grumbled. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ignis went downhill fast. Every time Prompto checked up on him, he seemed even worse than the day before. He lost weight quickly, and he didn’t have that much to spare even when healthy. Iggy was a beanpole. His athletic body and haughty features had made him a great subject to photograph. The light loved him even more than it loved Gladio’s muscles. But the frame that showed off Ignis when he was healthy worse his sickness even more prominently. 

His cheeks hollowed out. The shirts that were once tailored for an immaculate fit began to hang loose. His belts welt a notch, then two, then three times in as his pants began to hang off him. 

Still, even though Ignis looked like death had already claimed him, he always had a smile when Prompto showed up to visit. He made time to visit and chat, and that was somehow sadder than seeing how his body was giving up on him. Ignis was busy. In the past, he’d somehow been the hardest one to hang out with schedule wise. Even Noctis had more openings in his schedule for chilling than Iggy did. Though, to be fair, Prompto suspected some of Noct’s free time was free because Ignis was doing his work for him. 

“Prompto,” Ignis greeted. “I’m afraid I don’t feel up to our planned visit to the gardens. But I suppose I could rustle up some tea if you’d care for a cup.” The way Ignis rose from his chair was slow like an old man whose bones had long since worn away the cartilage between them. 

“Hey, don’t stress. I can do it,” Prompto said as he rushed over to Ignis’s side. His hand uselessly cupped the air behind Iggy’s elbow, unsure if he should touch it or not. 

In the past, Ignis would’ve brushed him aside maybe even glared at him. Now, he sank back into his chair, the fabric of his shirt grazing across Prompto’s fingertips as he all but collapsed into it. “That would be lovely thank you,” he said in a way that sounded like he was out of breath. Ignis sounded like that all the time now, pleasingly deep voice becoming less and less clear as he ran out of the air to speak. 

Prompto hurried over to the tea kettle, flicking the switch on that boiled the water in it. Ignis coughed behind him. Horrible, rattling sounds that shouldn’t be coming out of a man Ignis’s age. Whoever thought Hanahaki’s Disease was somehow romantic needed to be dragged out into the street and shot. With two guns because that was the number of guns Prompto had, and they deserved it. 

By the time the tea was done, Ignis had already tossed away the bloody tissue that Prompto knew he’d been coughing into. Even when dying, Ignis was still himself. He was still concerned about propriety and making others comfortable. He was still a good person, and Prompto didn’t know how it was that Ignis of all people had failed to make somebody fall in love with him. 

“Here you go,” Prompto said as he summoned as much cheery vigor as possible. 

“Thank you,” Ignis said as long, entirely too pale fingers took the offered cup. “I hear your training is going well?”

“My training? I guess. I mean, Cor thinks I need to work on my footwork a lot more. Says I could trip and shoot myself or Noct if I don’t,” Prompto tried to sound light and joking. Ignis didn’t need to be worrying about his worries on top of his own. 

But his tone didn’t fool Ignis. “He’s being too hard on you. It’s my fault. If I were able to fulfill my duties, there’d be less pressure for you to attain perfection so quickly.”

“Hey, no,” Prompto assured him. “You know how Crownsguard training is. It’s the best of the best for a reason.”

Ignis stared at him. “I do know. And I’m not so infirmed yet that I believe that nonsense of yours. I suppose I could’ve chosen a more physically adept replacement for myself. That might’ve helped. But Ludo was so, so…”

“Qualified?” Prompto offered. “Nice? Good looking?”

“Qualified, yes,” Ignis said. “Are you alright? You seem out of sorts.”

“I’m fine. Aside from one of my best friends dying and being replaced with a qualified dude.”

Ignis gave him a sympathetic look as if Prompto was the one in the room who should be getting sympathy. “I must admit that I didn’t expect you to be the one with the most concerns about Ludo. Though in retrospect, I should have. He’s entirely inoffensive, well mannered, and overly educated. He’s well suited to Noct’s tempers, and Gladio will work with anyone. But I did fail to consider your side of things.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Prompto asked. 

“You don’t like court manners,” Ignis explained. “Noctis and Gladio were born into them, as was I. We expect them. We don’t even notice them. But you don’t care for restrained behavior.”

“Gotta admit that if you weren’t dying before my eyes, I’d be mad at you right now,” Prompto said. 

“Apologies. I don’t mean it as an insult,” Ignis replied. “I just mean that, well, we didn’t get along very well at first did we? You found me to be cold and distant. I found you to be unmannerly and too obvious. We only became friends because we both cared a great deal about Noctis. You’ve no such motivation when it comes to Ludo. He isn’t Noctis’s friend, and he is the type of person you dislike.”

“I suppose,” Prompto admitted. “But I don’t dislike you.”

“What a glowing summation of our friendship. You don’t dislike me,” Ignis teased. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Prompto huffed. 

“I know. Truly, I do. I value you quite dearly, Prompto. Don’t think otherwise.” Ignis’s words were intense, but a lot of them were these days. Prompto couldn’t fault him for that. He’d be pretty intense too if he knew he was dying. 

“I don’t. I promise. Just… I’m not going to replace you with him. You know? And I can’t like him just because he’s gonna help Noct after you, after you die,” Prompto spit the words out like they were a bad taste in his mouth. 

“I don’t expect you to. Just try to be nice to him. For Noctis’s sake if nothing else.”

“I’ll try,” Prompto promised. 

“That’s all I ask.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Ignis became bedridden, it was heartbreaking. It was kind of surprising. Prompto had thought his heart couldn’t break any more than it already had, but it turned out that he was super wrong about that. The sole, bright spot about the situation was that Ignis didn’t have to get shut up in some hospital or nursing home. 

Prompto had an inkling that even if Ignis had requested to be treated like any other patient, it wouldn’t have been allowed. Noctis was taking it hard. He was mopey and angry, and he didn’t have an Ignis there to argue with him, pamper him, and pull him out of his dark mood. There was no way Noctis would allow Ignis to be put somewhere other than the very best care room in the Citadel. 

But if Noctis was a dark storm to be around, his father was somehow worse. Prompto didn’t have much to do with the actual politics going on in Lucis. That wasn’t his wheelhouse, and he knew it. But even he had heard the rumors echoing around in the hallways. 

Regis was in a short tempered and foul mood. He had no patience for debates, no care for long council meetings. He’d been glowering at anyone who dared oppose him. 

Most of the time, Prompto didn’t quite get how Noctis and his father were related. He just assumed that Noct took after his mother. But it turned out that assumption was wrong, because Noct’s thunderstorm was nothing compared to the tornado his father was. 

It was easy to forget that Ignis wasn’t just Noct’s friend and advisor. He didn’t get special treatment beyond his official position save that of the prince’s friendship. So it wasn’t anything Prompto had ever thought about. 

But Ignis had grown up in the royal household. He’d been by Noctis’s side since he was five. It retrospect, it made sense that proximity to the prince extended to the king as well. 

If Prompto had to wait to see Iggy more and more often these days, he supposed being bumped in visiting hours by the king wasn’t anything to be upset over. He had a phone. He could wait. It beat the alternative of talking to Cor or any of the other royal bodyguards standing outside the doorway to Ignis’s sickroom. 

The thump of Regis’s cane said he wouldn’t be waiting that much longer anyway. Prompto shoved his phone away and did his best to come to attention. Not that he had to because he wasn’t officially part of the guard yet, but it didn’t hurt to practice. And besides, he didn’t really know the official way to greet the king as a commoner while just casually bumping into him in a hallway. 

He kept his eyes forward and did his best not to eavesdrop on the whispered conversation Regis had with Cor. But if he hoped to go unnoticed, his hopes were dashed with a sharp, “Prompto,” coming from the marshal’s mouth. 

“Yes, Marshal?” Prompto did his best not to stutter. 

“His Majesty would like a word with you,” Cor informed him. 

Prompto swallowed because that was weird. Both because Regis wanted to talk to him and because Regis didn’t just say that himself instead of having Cor say it. But the second weird thing was just some sort of royal protocol shit. At least, Prompto assumed it was. 

Either way, he obediently followed Regis into a nearby room because what else was he going to do? Run away? 

“Prompto,” Regis said the instant the door was closed behind them. 

“Your Majesty?” Prompto squeaked. 

“I understand from Noctis that you and Ignis are friends?” Regis asked. 

“Yep!” Promto winced at the volume of his own voice. 

Regis seemed not to notice. Or pretended not to notice because Prompto didn’t think he had any sort of hearing loss. “Ignis doesn’t have many friends,” he said as if Prompto wasn’t well aware of that fact. “Like Noctis, his duties prevent him from having much time to socialize beyond official functions. And official functions are terrible places to create friendships.”

He could say that again. Official functions were awful.

“It is my fault,” Regis continued. His voice was full of regret and sadness. “Ignis never complains. He never did. Not even when he was a little boy. I should’ve kept a better eye on him. I shouldn’t have let him get like this.”

“I don’t think that’s your fault,” Prompto consoled him. It wasn’t the appropriate way to address a king, but Prompto knew that tone and that guilt because he knew Noctis. And he couldn’t just ignore it. 

“You’re kind, but also wrong,” Regis replied. “Ignis is not my son, but I was responsible for him. I let him get to the point where he would cloister away his feelings. If I’d encouraged him to find more friends, be more open. He wouldn’t have gotten into this mess.”

Prompto bit his lip, but it did nothing to keep him from talking. “I don’t think that’s true. Iggy still could’ve fallen for somebody that didn’t love him back. And he’s not exactly the kind of guy who likes to party.”

Regis let out a bitter laugh. “I suppose that this is true. Noctis is isolated by duty. Ignis by nature. He makes many acquaintances and few friends. Which is why I’ve called you in here. Ignis should not be alone more than he is. He has never failed the crown, but the crown as failed him. Noctis cannot be here, and Gladiolus must be with Noctis. It is much to ask, but I ask that you be with him as much as is possible.”

“Yeah, sure,” Prompto agreed. “Don’t even have to ask.”

Regis nodded. “Good. I will hold you to your word. And if you find that any hangers on come around, you have my permission to harm them in whatever manner suits you best.”

Well, that was super violent. “Of course, Your Majesty,” Prompto agreed without mentioning it. 

Regis nodded and left the room. After five minutes, Prompto assumed that meant he’d been dismissed to go onto Iggy watching duty. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Even bedridden, Ignis seemed to always be working. His laptop rested on top of his blankets more often than not. His phone was always nearby. Fucking Ludo seemed to pop in at all hours of the day with questions about Noct’s schedule or needs. 

Ignis always greeted that fucker with a smile and patience. He was almost too patient with the guy, and Prompto had the sinking feeling that his suspicions about Ignis and Ludo were true. After all, wouldn’t that guy be just the type of person Ignis would fall for? 

Prompto hated his guts, but even he could tell that Ludo was good at picking up everything Ignis taught him. He was respectful and diligent and always had perfectly pressed clothes. And Ignis had handpicked him to take his place. That had to be a sign. 

“You don’t need to glare at Ludo all the time,” Ignis said as if he could read Prompto’s mind. “I think he’s gotten the message that you don’t care for him.”

“He can keep on getting that message,” Prompto replied. 

Ignis huffed, but Prompto could hear the laughter underneath it. “I don’t know why you’re having such issues with him. You always seem to see the best in people. And I did ask you to keep an open mind about him.”

“He’s a dope,” Prompto defended himself. “And his face is stupid.” 

“Ah. I see. Grave charges those,” Ignis observed. “What do you suggest we do with him then? Throw him in the stocks until he gets his face in order?”

“Don’t make fun of me! I have valid complaints,” Prompto said even though the wind was out of his sails. 

“Mmm, very valid ones,” Ignis teased. The hand that he patted on the side of his bed was bonier than it had been the month before. “Come sit with me. I detest having to look up at you standing there. It’s unnerving.”

“Now you know how I feel all the time,” Prompto said even though he plopped onto the bed a moment later. He kicked his boots off to swing his feet up on the mattress. It maybe should feel weird to be sitting shoulder to shoulder with Iggy on a bed, but it didn’t. He guessed that meant they’d breached the final barrier of friendship – physical closeness without discomfort. There was a point he thought he’d never get there with Ignis, and he hated to think about how soon he was going to lose it. 

“Do you want to watch some television? I think there’s some ridiculous soap operas on this time of day,” Ignis asked. 

“I guess,” Prompto replied around the lump forming in his throat. 

Ignis fiddled with the remote until he landed upon a poorly acted drama. Prompto was tempted to suggest they watch something good, but he figured that the show wasn’t the point. For all that Ignis seemed perplexed by Prompto most of the time, he wasn’t unobservant. The noise of the television was there to fill the room with something other than grief. Prompto appreciated that. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days seemed to slip by too fast for Prompto to keep up with them. Noctis would visit. Gladio would visit. Sometimes Iris or Cor or even Regis would come by to chat for a while. And that fucker would be around multiple times per day. 

With all the visiting going on, the days should seem longer. Prompto didn’t have the fullest of social calendars, so he figured that so much activity should be overwhelming. Instead, it seemed like the days kept getting away from him. It wouldn’t be so bad except that every day that passed, took a little bit of Ignis with it. 

Iggy slept more often now. He’d fall asleep between sentences sometimes then wake up a few minutes later, confused about what happened to their conversation. 

The bloody tissues that he used to palm away to hide now littered the insides of wastebaskets kept by his bedside. Every shade of red that blood could be was displayed in their macabre insides. Prompto felt like he’d dream about blood for years to come. Blood and crystals. 

The doctors and nurses that visited wore somber looks on their faces. Prompto wasn’t supposed to know the condition details, but his post meant he couldn’t help but overhear some of their discussions. Ignis was deteriorating faster even than anticipated. There were admonitions to avoid contact with the person he was in love with. Additional exposure was what was causing Iggy’s rapid decline, or so the doctors believed. 

Knowing that he was right about Ludo didn’t make Prompto feel any better. At one point in his life, he’d have been thrilled about being right. Solving one of Ignis’s mysteries was quite a feat of sleuthing. But now all he felt was sadness because there was nothing to be done. 

Even when Ludo didn’t show up to visit for a weekend, Ignis didn’t get any better. He didn’t even level off. Just kept getting worse and worse and worse. 

Prompto didn’t like facing the inevitable end of Iggy’s life. He hated to think of how full of life Ignis had been just a few months ago. There were pictures that were still in his camera that showed just how fast Ignis had started to fade out of his life. The Ignis in those photographs looked his age for once. There was no stern expression or business attire in sight. 

They’d been at some festival or another. Though Ignis was still wearing tailored clothing, he’d dressed the most casual Prompto had ever seen him. Or ever seen him before his body had failed him and left him in a bed to die. 

In any case, the Ignis in the photos looked like he was only a couple of years older than Prompto. There were even a few photos of him smiling. Though the photographer in Prompto knew that Ignis just had an awkward smile, the friend in him was kinder about it. The uncomfortable sensation he got when looking at that smile was just because Iggy didn’t smile often. 

“Are you looking at those pictures again?” Ignis asked, voice soft and full of sleep. 

“Yeah,” Prompto admitted. “Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“It was a good day,” Ignis reminisced. “I wish we’d had more of them.”

“We did,” Prompto assured him. “Maybe they were all like this. But they were good.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Ignis agreed. “I’m just finding that I have more regrets at the end of my life than I expected I would.” 

Prompto wanted to say he shouldn’t talk like that. He wanted to spout platitudes about being fine. But he wasn’t big on denial, and neither was Ignis. 

“I know that the king assigned you to my side, but I’d still like to thank you. I don’t think I’d want to be alone. I…” Ignis trailed off. 

Prompto ignored the emotion in Ignis’s voice because if he didn’t, he was going to start crying. “I didn’t want you to be alone either,” he admitted because there was just no time left to play at being disaffected or cool. He’d never been good at pretending to be unemotional. And there was no time left for it anyway. 

Ignis didn’t respond. Prompto wasn’t surprised to look over and see that he was sleeping again. A month ago, the transition from wakefulness to sleep would’ve been jarring. Now, he was just grateful that Ignis was able to sleep at all. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Breathing started to seem strange as the days slipped by. As Ignis’s breaths became shallow, Prompto became far too aware of his own. The oxygen tube snaking into Ignis’s proud nose bothered him more than it did Iggy. 

Of course, not much at all bothered Ignis now. He was unconscious more than he was awake. Even when Noct stopped by, he was barely awake. It was so weird to see Ignis not paying attention to his prince. There had been a time Prompto couldn’t even imagine Ignis ignoring Noct. He wished he didn’t know the reality of it. 

He wished that there was something he could do to stop the quiet madness taking over his life, taking away Ignis’s. But he couldn’t make Ludo fall in love with Ignis – not if all the time they’d already spent together hadn’t done the trick. 

But he still tried. 

Ludo arrived with a bouquet of paper roses one evening. Real flowers had been banned lest their pollen or scent make the act of breathing even more difficult for Ignis. Balloons were far outside the realm of Ignis’s interests. But he did like flowers, and ones made out of paper were colorful. 

They even looked well made. If Ignis was awake, he’d be able to gauge the craftsmanship a lot better than Prompto could. But he wasn’t, so Ludo placed them on the designated gift table without comment. As he did, Prompto’s heart sunk. There was a wedding band on his finger where nothing had rested before. 

“Got married?” Prompto asked, his voice hoarse even to his own ears. 

Ludo looked surprised at the question, probably because Prompto didn’t talk to him much. “Yes. It wasn’t great timing, but Prince Noctis signed off on my leave anyway.”

“Congratulations,” Prompto said because that was what people said to newlyweds. 

“Thank you,” Ludo replied. He started walking towards the door, and Prompto felt like shit. He felt like scum, but he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. 

“He’s a great guy, you know. Ignis. Anyone would be happy with him,” he blurted out. 

Ludo stopped and turned. The expression on his face sad. “I know.”

“I just wish that whoever it was would’ve given him a chance. Maybe it would’ve been inconvenient or whatever, but he’d give them the world for sure.”

Ludo nodded and his thumb rolled his wedding band around his finger as if in thought. “I know you might not believe this. But I wish he’d had his happy ending. It seems wrong to be benefitting from his misfortune when I’ve already got so much happiness in my life. I didn’t know him well, but I think I know why he has such loyal friends. I know you don’t like me much, but please accept my condolences.” 

He turned around and left the room, taking Prompto’s hope with him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whatever misguided hope or sheer stubbornness that had kept Prompto going throughout the whole ordeal seemed to evaporate. He felt like a puppet hanging from invisible strings. Waiting for the inevitable was an awful thing. 

There were only two futures before him. In one, Ignis died while he was asleep. In the other, Ignis died before his eyes. He didn’t know which scenario he dreaded more. 

It didn’t help that there wasn’t much of Ignis left. He barely woke up to cough let alone converse. The horrible soap operas they’d been watching to fill the gaps in awkward conversations were now the majority of words uttered in the room. 

Aside from similarly downtrodden visitors, Prompto was left with only his memories for company. He tortured himself with the photographs of better days. Had he printed them off, their edges would already be worn and faded like their subject matter. But the Ignis in the camera was forever youthful and invigorated. 

Awful thoughts liked to play through Prompto’s brain as he looked at them. What if he had done something different? Ignis was a good-looking man. He was intelligent. He was funny even though he didn’t try to be. He was considerate and could even be charming when he wanted to be. 

Maybe if Prompto had done something about his vague attraction to Ignis, he could’ve stopped the nightmare of his death from starting. Iggy wasn’t the kind of jerk who’d fall in love with somebody else when he had a boyfriend, right? 

Prompto had meant what he said to Ludo, Ignis would make anyone happy. Anyone included Prompto. Maybe Ignis wasn’t the kind of person Prompto would crush on or pine over. He wasn’t flashy or bubbly. For all the camera lens loved him, he blended into the background on purpose. 

But that was Iggy’s whole deal. He was supportive. He neither needed nor wanted to be the center of attention. That was his downfall. Ignis would make anyone happy, but he wouldn’t go out of his way to do the same for himself. He’d never intrude unless he was certain it was for the betterment of somebody he cared about. 

“Well, we’d all be better off if you’d done something about that stupid crush of yours,” Prompto said to Ignis’s sleeping form. “What kind of bullshit is this anyway? You’re leaving us over some stupid dude who brought you paper roses. Why couldn’t you love me instead? I’m super easy! I’m so easy I’m almost desperate!”

Ignis starting to cough was not the response he wanted, but it was a predictable one. Or so he thought. But the coughs were so much worse than he’d heard before. The chunks of crystal flower petals and blood that came up were all wrong. 

Prompto knew what blood looked like, but this was too bright and too dark at the same time. It was like a lurid nightmare. He felt guilt. Even though the logical part of his mind knew that his mini-tirade hadn’t caused Ignis to start hacking up parts of his lungs, he couldn’t just ignore the timing. 

He also couldn’t ignore the thought that crept into his mind. Looked like it was option number two. He was going to watch Ignis die. His mind kept repeating that thought over and over even as he tried to push Ignis into a position where he could expel whatever junk his body was trying to get out. 

Prompto didn’t even hear the door open nor the nursing staff come in until he was being pushed away from Ignis with gentle yet firm hands. He watched them load Ignis onto a rolling cot still not comprehending the reality of the situation. 

Looked like he was a fool. There was a third option, and it might be worse than the other two. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Prompto’s head felt fuzzy as Gladio bundled him into a car, tucking him into the backseat as he might Iris. On a normal day, Prompto might object to that kind of treatment. But today was not normal. Noctis was driving. Ignis was dying. And they were ignoring Ignis’s desires for medical treatment. 

Which was weird. Ignis had said no surgery. Prompto knew that. So why he was sitting in a surgical waiting room was a question he should be asking. But he didn’t want to fight with Noct or his dad. His head felt like it was stuffed full of clouds, wool, cotton and other fuzzy materials, but he still knew better than to pick a fight with royalty. 

So he sat and waited even though he didn’t know why. He could ask, but he also didn’t want to know the answer. Plausible deniability, Ignis called it. Prompto had learned that one while they were watching reruns of an old courtroom drama series. 

 

“You should get some sleep,” Gladio said. “You look as bad as Iggy.”

“Not funny,” Prompto snapped before regretting it. What was he trying to do? Get rid of more friends? “Sorry,” he added. 

“Don’t worry about it. You’re exhausted. It happens,” Gladio dismissed. “I’m going to go see if there’s a room you can crash in or something.” 

“It’s a hospital. They need beds for sick people,” Prompto reminded him.

“Well, would you agree to going back home?” Gladio asked. “Or at least a hotel room nearby?”

Prompto didn’t like the idea that he might not be nearby, so he shook his head. 

“I don’t think they’re going to let you sleep in the waiting room,” Gladio told him. 

“I’ll sleep in the car,” Prompto said as his brain alit on a solution. 

“You’ll do no such thing,” Regis said as he appeared out of nowhere. Prompto wondered if he’d used magic to get near them. Probably not. “Hospitals have family rest areas. Ask what floor Ignis is being sent to, and have Gladio take you there.”

That sounded logical. And also like something Prompto should’ve known about. “Maybe I’m more tired than I thought,” he said to nobody in particular. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crick in his neck as Prompto woke up told him that hospital pullout couches were not made for comfort. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Gladio said. He sounded too damned chipper for Prompto’s liking.

“Gah,” Prompto grunted as he righted himself. 

“Iggy wants to talk to you,” Gladio said.

Relief filled Prompto. If Ignis wanted to see him, Ignis wasn’t dead. He also was able to talk, though who knew how long that was going to last. He shuffled off to the room Gladio indicated and was unsurprised to see it was single occupancy. Not as nice as the room Iggy had been in at the Citadel though. 

“Hey,” Prompto greeted as he sank into the guest chair. 

“Hello,” Ignis said. His face looked flush. Prompto hoped that wasn’t a bad sign. 

“I, ah, suppose I have a bit of a confession to make,” Ignis said as he fidgeted with the blanket covering him. 

“Yeah?” Prompto asked. 

“I may have told Gladio about, well, you know. He seemed a bit shocked,” Ignis explained without explaining a damn thing. 

Prompto squinted at him. “Iggy, the number of words coming out of your mouth right now tell me that you feel better. But they’re not telling me what you’re actually saying.” 

“It’s just a bit difficult to say after all this time,” Ignis said as his flush increased. 

And, oh. Oh, Prompto could kick himself. That was no flush. That was a blush. He didn’t think Ignis’s body knew how to do that. “I’m confused,” he admitted. Though he was staring to get a clue. Blushing, Ignis feeling better: fucking Ludo must’ve had some sort of last-minute love revelation. Prompto was angry that Ludo was the one who had gotten a second chance. 

“I thought, erroneously it seems, that you’d have told them. I know this was quite presumptuous of me. I suppose I was so overjoyed that I didn’t even stop to consider your position in the matter. Which unforgivable, but I do aim to rectify my mistake as best I can,” Ignis explained. “I can only imagine the pressure you must be feeling. But I don’t want you to feel any. We shall do this at your pace or no pace at all.”

“Okay. Not sure why my pace is needed,” Prompto said. “You need a chaperone or something?”

Ignis laughed then coughed, though no blood came up. “No. No chaperone. I think my body has that covered at the moment. I’m quite the catch, don’t you know? Bedridden, coughing, pale as the bed linens: I’m the perfect gothic heroine.”

 

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed with a tight smile, “he’s a lucky guy.” He hated how he couldn’t muster up any happiness to go with his words. What kind of ungrateful asshole was he? Not a day ago, he’d been ready to do anything to keep Ignis alive. Now he was jealous. He’d need to do something about that just in case he was predisposed to Hanahaki’s as well. 

Ignis frowned at his words. Because they were insincere words, and Prompto wasn’t a good liar. “That’s an odd statement,” Ignis stated. 

Prompto forced out a nervous laugh. “Well, you know me, I’m an odd guy.”

“I do know you,” Ignis acknowledged. “And you’re not odd.” 

“I think even Noct thinks I’m odd,” Prompto argued. “So you might be in the minority here, Iggy.”

“I’m starting to think I might be in more than one minority here,” was Ignis’s cryptic reply. “Tell me, Prompto. Who do you think is ‘he’?”

“Come again?”

“Earlier you said, ‘He’s a lucky guy.’ Who do you think he is?” Ignis asked. 

“Uh, Ludo? Of course,” Prompto replied. “I figured it out. Don’t worry, I didn’t do a lot of meddling, so they can’t come arrest me or anything. I just told him you were great and stuff.” 

“I should hope you didn’t say anything. He’s married, Prompto!” Ignis sounded angrier than he should. Prompto had done him a major solid, and this was the thanks he was getting. 

“Yeah, but not that married. And he loves you back now,” Prompto pointed out. “You’ve got proof and stuff. I say break up that marriage. You’re better than whoever that lady is anyway.”

Ignis sighed as if Prompto was an idiot. Which was insulting. Prompto was starting to think he should be insulted even though Ignis was still injured and stuff. 

“Much as I appreciate your belief that I would be an excellent homewrecker, I have no intention of doing such,” Ignis informed him. 

Prompto didn’t like the idea that Ignis and Ludo might start knocking boots soon, but he disliked the idea of Iggy relapsing more. He opened his mouth to express his opposition to the no-homewrecking plan, but Ignis raised his hand in the way that meant, “Be silent, Prompto.” 

 

“I am not, nor have I ever been, in love with Ludorum Tolerabiliora. He’s not my type at all.” Ignis paused as if readying himself for something. “You are my type.” 

“Um, what?” was not a response Prompto was proud to utter.   
“You are so very difficult,” Ignis hissed back at him. It was a more Ignis like snipe. And, if Prompto was going to be honest with himself, one he kind of deserved. 

“But you like difficult?” Prompto guess. “I mean, you’re like in love with me, right? Totally hot for all this?”

“Oh, Astrals. Please don’t say it like that,” Ignis begged. 

But Prompto was on to him now that Ignis had confessed. He could hear the undercurrent of fondness in Ignis’s voice. It was similar to the one he used with Noct, but different. Different because Iggy was in love with him, and Prompto was totally supermodel bait. Or, could-be-supermodel bait. Point was, Ignis was hot, and in love with Prompto. And Prompto kind of loved him back. 

“You’re gonna have to put up with me saying that. Because you were a dumbass who almost got himself killed because he didn’t want to ask me out on a date or something,” Prompto said. 

 

“I would have if you’d ever given any indication you might be interested,” Ignis defended himself. “I wasn’t about to impose myself on you. And it would’ve been illegal to tell you once I developed symptoms.”

“Yeah, well. We’re going to argue about that a lot more once you’re feeling better. Just letting you know. There will be words. Lots of words. None of this sacrificial nonsense. I’m not Noct,” Prompto reminded him. 

“No,” Ignis agreed, “you’re not. I’d dare say you’re better looking than he is.”

“Uh-uh. Nope. You are going to save that compliment for when Noct can hear it. Put it back in your mouth and tell me something else,” Prompto ordered. 

Ignis tilted his chin up as if considering something before settling on, “You have beautiful eyes.” It was said with such sincerity that Prompto felt himself blush. Which was just great. They could be known as the blushing couple, and their friends could ridicule them over it. 

“Wait, we’ve gotta tell Noct first before you share that compliment,” Prompto realized. 

“That was the original intent of this conversation,” Ignis reminded him. “I just got sidetracked when I realized you thought I was in love with fucking Ludo.”

Prompto didn’t bother hiding the smile that came to his face when Ignis uttered out his pet name for that usurper. “I knew there was a reason I loved you.”


End file.
